


"Come Carpe Diem, Baby"

by a_carnal_mink



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Porn, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_carnal_mink/pseuds/a_carnal_mink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am the only being in all Creation who has cradled your soul in my hands. I know you. I know you are complete. Because I know you completely."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Come Carpe Diem, Baby"

**Author's Note:**

> Website: [weltonbmarsland.com](https://weltonbmarsland.com/)

Dean hadn't had time, back on Valentine's Day, to consider the possible strangeness of three men sitting down to a Valentine's dinner together. Other diners had been too wrapped up in each other to really spare Team Free Will a glance anyhow. But now, almost three weeks later, Dean suddenly felt like the entire restaurant he and Sam and Castiel were sitting in might just be harbouring thoughts of beating the crap outta three guys for flaunting such outrageous perversity as _eating in each other's presence_.

It wasn't too obvious when they first walked in and found a table, Dean and Cas on one side, Sam opposite them on the other. A few pointed glances were thrown their way. And, okay, that was generally par for the course when strangers blow into town in these little Bumfuck, Nowhere places in the middle of the Big Empty. Especially when said strangers are such handsome sons of guns as Winchester DNA dictates. Dean's used to being eyeballed when he walks into a place.

What he wasn't used to was behaviour like that exhibited by the woman at the table next to them who gathered up her meal, her cutlery, her napkin, her other shit, not five minutes after they arrived and clip-clopped loudly over to the other side of the room, making a big show of bangin' all her bits and pieces down on her new table.

'Erm,' Sam frowned.

Dean just snorted dismissively. 'Muttering Millie over there obviously has no taste. Quit hogging the menu, Sammy.'

Their waitress shot them all vaguely apologetic smiles when she stopped by. 'Can I get you fellas something to go?'

Dean blinked, recovered quickly to give her his best smile. 'We were kinda hoping to enjoy a sit-down meal – ' he glanced at her nametag, ' – Mandy. Been a long day.'

Mandy's smile got even more apologetic. 'Sure. What can I get you?'

'Cheeseburger for me, please, and a separate garden salad. Sam?'

'The skinless chicken and vegetables, thanks.'

Mandy nodded over her notepad then looked up expectantly at Castiel. 'And you?'

'The garden salad is for me,' Cas informed her solemnly.

'Oh.' Mandy's gaze flicked back to Dean and she gave him another tiny smile, a little tighter than her previous ones. 'Of course. Drinks?'

'Three beers should do it.' Dean almost considered punctuating it with a wink, but by then he was feeling too uncomfortable, so he let it slide.

'Dude,' Sam said quietly as soon as Mandy was gone. 'This place is frosty!'

'I noticed. You think it's just 'cos we ain't from aroun' here, boy?'

'Shh, Dean!' Sam practically hissed. 'That's not funny!'

'It's kinda funny.' Dean leaned back in his seat, right elbow up on the backrest, surveying their fellow patrons. There'd been a lot of demon activity on the outskirts of the town recently, hence Team Free Will's reason for being there in the first place, and Dean found himself checking for black-eyed tells from the other diners. He didn't really expect there to be any – the three of them had kicked multiple demon ass six ways to Sunday in the last twelve hours. But running through his mental list of checkpoints helped fill in the time, at least. Beside him, he was aware of Castiel experimentally feeling the waxy "petals" of the table's fake flower.

'Dean.'

'Yeah?'

Cas leaned toward him conspiratorially, as though preparing to share a vital piece of information with him. 'This is plastic.'

'Well, of course it's plastic. You think a place like this is gonna splash out on real flowers?' He patted the back of Castiel's hand twice. 'Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take you somewhere more fancy next time, I promise.'

'But why is it here?'

Dean flicked a look at Sam for help, but his brother's expression firmly told him he was on his own. 'Uh, for decoration, I guess. Make things more cheery?'

Castiel slowly lifted his gaze from the sorry faded flower to give Dean a long, considering look. 'Cheery,' he monotoned at him.

With his elbow up on the backrest as it was, Dean barely had to move his arm at all in order to swat the back of his hand against Cas' shoulder. 'Alright, funny guy – frigging hilarious.'

The tiniest hint of a knowing smile played briefly at one corner of the angel's mouth and, across the table, Sam's grin was so sudden and so open that Dean knew straight away Sam was only just catching on to the fact that Cas was fucking around.  
Strangely, he didn't quite know whether to feel more proud of Sam or of Cas over that…

'One cheeseburger,' Mandy announced suddenly, plonking down a large plate of burger and fries in front of Dean. 'One chicken and veg.' She juggled plates for a moment. 'And one garden salad. I'll be back with your beers.'

No sooner was Mandy gone again, than Muttering Millie from across the room was up from her seat and stalking toward their table, one hand digging in her bag in search of something. It was that last detail that had Dean on his guard immediately, right hand subconsciously veering toward where his gun was stashed, just in case this was all about to get very ugly, very quickly. When Millie's hand emerged from her bag, though, it was a piece of paper that was clutched in it. A piece of paper that she practically threw onto their table – obviously not understanding much about the aerodynamics of sheets of paper – before spitting the word "Fags" at them and marching furiously out the door.

'The hell?!' Dean spluttered, watching the piece of paper settle over Sam's skinless chicken.

Sam delicately plucked it from atop his food and turned it over. 'Well, fuck,' he swore quietly. 'I hate these clowns.' And coming from Sam, Dean knew what an insult that was.

'Lemme see that.' Dean snatched the paper away and quickly scanned the multi-font exclamations.

GOD HATES FAGS.

'Well, fuck,' he echoed Sam's eloquent sentiment. 'We cross a state line I didn't know about? We accidentally in Kansas?'

Sam shook his head as he salted his vegetables. 'Those guys are spread all over these days. They're like herpes.'

Cas leaned against Dean's shoulder, reading along with him. 'This,' he started gruffly, swallowing and starting again. 'This is outrageous blasphemy. Saying such things about my Father! God doesn't hate. God is incapable of hatred! To accuse God of – !'

'Okay, okay, keep it down.' Dean patted at Castiel's arm a little, trying to coax the angel down from his rising righteous fury. He started scrunching the flier in his hand but Cas snatched it away, standing up from the table as he did so. 'Cas? Dude, what you doing?'

'I need to talk to that woman.'

'No!' Dean could sense other patrons looking at them again and quieted his voice a bit. 'Just let it go, okay? These people, they're just nutjobs. Crazy, vile, sickening nutjobs, but nutjobs all the same. Don't give them the satisfaction of getting upset over this crap.'

Predictably, Castiel ignored his entreaties. 'I'll meet you back at the motel.' And he was off, pushing the glass door open wide in a snap of tan trenchcoat.

'Shit.' Dean watched Cas disappear beyond the frame of the front windows. 'I almost feel sorry for that GodHatesFags bitch.' He glanced across at Sam. 'Little dude can be scary when he wants.'

Sam just scoffed and cut into his chicken. 'I would've thought you'd be getting more indignant about the accusation.'

Dean picked up his cheeseburger and shrugged. 'Those fuckers hate everybody. They think EVERYbody's a fag. I'm not sweatin' it.'

'Even though it was probably you and Cas discussing flowers that propelled her into action?'

Dean spared his brother a half-assed glare before returning his attention to his food. They ate in silence for a few minutes, but Dean could still feel his brother's gaze on him pretty damned heavily. 'What?' he finally demanded, sensing that Sam was working himself up to some sort of "discussion" but was evidently having trouble getting started. 'Quit looking at me like that. What's up?'

Sam shrugged as if to say "Nothing", but then met Dean's eye and took a breath. 'Well…'

'Well what?'

'Well, you are… you know. Close.'

'Me and Cas? Yeah, so? You trying to make something of it?'

'I'm not trying anything, Dean, I'm just saying the two of you have got pretty pally lately. That's all.'

Dean set his burger on his plate carefully and leaned forward a little, dropping his voice a few decimals. 'He fought his way through Hell to get me out of there, Sam,' he said quietly. 'He turned his back on everything he's ever known, fuck, he DIED trying to give me a chance. Call me sentimental if you want, but yeah, I'm gonna feel a tiny bit "pally" toward someone who does all of that for me.'

'I'm not saying that you shouldn't – '

'Guy pulls you outta Hell, you can't help feeling a bit connected.'

'Connected,' Sam repeated. 'Exactly. That's all I'm saying. You and Cas are connected. And there's not anything wrong with that, Dean.'

Dean watched Sam transfer his interest back to his skinless chicken and wondered what the fuck cogs were grinding away in that freak brain of his. Little brothers could be such bitches at times.

 

When Dean and Sam returned to their motel room, Castiel was already waiting for them inside, sitting at the small kitchenette table, back ramrod straight, hands resting lightly on his knees. The brothers exchanged a look as they closed their door and removed their jackets.

'So,' Dean ventured to ask, 'you get all smitey on that delusional bitch's ass or what?'

'I didn't smite anyone, Dean.'

'What did you do, then?'

Cas looked away for a beat or two before lifting his chin almost proudly and explaining himself. 'I enlightened her to the true Word. Condemned her blasphemy and showed her the light.'

Dean frowned a bit, trying to understand exactly what his angel meant by that. 'Showed her… the light?'

The smallest flash of what might have been a moment's embarrassment flitted through Castiel's expression. 'I, ah, I showed her my wings. You may remember, Dean, that they're quite useful in convincing the disbelieving.'

Dean ignored the implied dig at his own lack of Faith. 'You show the actual wings or just, y'know, shadows like you showed me?'

'My wings are a part of my true form,' Cas reminded him. 'Allowing a mortal to see them would result in misfortune I'd prefer not to inflict.

'Hm.' Dean gave a small nod. 'Well. Good, then.'

Across the room, Sam was smirking in Dean's direction while opening up his laptop. 'Not jealous, are you, Dean?'

'Yeah, fuck you very much, Sammy.'

Sam laughed behind his computer screen.

'It feels good to save a lost soul,' Cas told them seriously, seeming totally unaware of the innuendo Sam had just tried to inject into the conversation.

'Yeah, well, I'm real happy you're feeling good about yourself, Cas,' Dean said with more than an edge of sarcasm and feeling like a bit of dick for it despite himself. 'But this probably means we'll have to bug out of this place first thing in the a.m. instead of having some well deserved RnR.'

Castiel frowned at him. 'I don't – '

'Understand? No, I guess you don't.'

'Dean,' came Sam's voice reproachfully.

'Are you both fucking oblivious?!' Dean started pacing a bit, crossing to the window and making sure the already in-place drapery was definitely in place. 'Last time Zachariah found me, it was through the lunatic religious fringe, remember? I don't exactly want to hang around long enough for GodLovesFagsNow to start broadcasting the existence of trenchcoat-wearin' angels to anyone who'll listen. You get me?'

Castiel stood up and walked up into Dean's personal space, obviously contrite. 'My apologies, Dean. I didn't intend to put you or your brother in any sort of danger. I won't be so reckless next time.'

The blue eyes were so sincere, so apologetic, Dean's ire melted away as quickly as it had risen. He coughed lightly and dropped his gaze. 'Whatever, man. S'okay.' He walked a few steps away, knocking his shoulder lightly against Castiel's as he passed by, and plonked himself down on his bed. He picked up the remote and started searching out something to watch, happy to find an episode of _Dirty Jobs_ he hadn't seen before.

 

Dean woke up to a darkened room. He was still dressed, still lying on top of the covers where he'd been watching Mike Rowe paddle about on a lagoon of cow shit. Immediately checking for a Sam-sized shape in the next bed and finding it, he pushed his momentary disorientation away and sat up. His watch told him it was almost four in the morning. Hell, he must've been pretty beat. He stood up and stretched and walked over to the window to pull the curtain back a tiny way and see what the weather was up to. Alarm at seeing someone sitting on the Impala's trunk quickly gave way to relief when he realised it was Castiel. What the fuck was the angel doing sitting out there?

Cas didn't turn around when Dean opened the motel door. He didn't make any sign of hearing Dean approach until Dean settled onto the trunk beside him.

'Hello, Dean.'

'Hey. It's nearly four, Cas. What're you doing out here?'

'I am… on the alert. You were worried about Zachariah being potentially led to you by my actions last night. So I'm watching.'

'You're standing guard over us? You don't have to do that, man.'

Castiel watched the sky intently. 'But I wanted to.'

Dean looked at the angel's profile for a moment and grinned. 'Well, look at you,' he said fondly. 'Just racking up the human emotions now, aren't ya?'

Eyes that even managed to be blue out here in the night turned on him. 'What do you mean?'

'That's guilt, Cas. You felt guilty, so you've sat out here all night to make yourself feel better about it. That's kinda how it works.'

He watched as Castiel considered this new information. Somewhere in the back of Dean's consciousness, there was a tiny voice that squeaked something about how, out of all the people in the world, it was a fuck-up like him who was teaching an angel of the fricken lord about emotions and humanity. Exactly what sort of handle was Castiel actually being given on all this crap?

'I see,' Cas said eventually and turned his attention back to the heavens. 'It's cold, Dean. You should go back inside.'

He was right. It was pretty fucking wintry, especially as Dean didn't have a jacket on. For some reason, though, Dean was reluctant to go back in and leave Castiel sitting out there like that. 'Naw, it's not too bad,' he lied, crossing his arms against the cold.

They sat in silence for a short while, just long enough for Dean to start to wonder why on earth he wanted to do this. Then, quietly, Cas murmured – 'She assumed us to be lovers, you and I.'

'Hm? Oh. Uh, yeah. But look, those particular nutjobs, they think that way about practically everybody. They look around at the world and all they can see is sin and sinners. Don't let it get to you.'

'Get to me,' Cas repeated slowly, apparently confused. 'You consider the assumption an insult?'

'Um.' God, how was he supposed to answer that one? 'I'm not a huge fan of people making assumptions about me at the best of times. And that bitch and people like her are certainly intending it as an insult when they start spewing their shit.' He paused a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order. There were things he wanted to say here and things he kinda didn't want to say, and it was confusing trying to sort out one from the other. 'But, short answer?' he said tentatively. 'Is no. I'm not insulted.'

Beside him, Castiel gave a slight nod and kept right on watching the sky. The fact that he didn't say anything in response worried Dean enough for him to prod a little. 'What about you? How do you feel about it?'

For some stupid reason, the scant couple of seconds it took for Cas to quit searching the skies and turn the laser focus of his gaze back on Dean, was enough time for Dean to start sweating on what his answer might be. He even wondered absent-mindedly if Cas' angel mojo was able to discern the slight up-swing in Dean's pulse.

'I'm not insulted either. On the contrary…' Cas paused and Dean became aware of holding his breath, watching Cas' gaze track down to his mouth then back up to his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped very low and very quiet. 'Being mistaken for your lover gives me a different feeling altogether.'

Dean held Castiel's gaze until, experimentally, he licked his lips just to see if Cas would track the movement. Of course he did. Dean shivered slightly.

'It's cold, Dean,' Cas reminded him once more. 'You should go back in.'

'Yeah,' Dean said vaguely. 'I should.' He continued to sit right where he was though. After another five minutes or so, he cleared his throat and asked, 'Can I ask you somethin'?' To his dying day, he would swear he didn't know what the fuck compelled him.

'Anything.'

'Would it be okay with you if, if I maybe kissed you some time?'

Castiel's almost-smile was soft and fleeting. 'Yes, Dean.'

'Huh.' Dean nodded, wondering silently at how matter-of-factly that had just gone. 'Well. Good.' Suddenly shy, he slid down off the trunk and stamped his feet a couple of times, getting some feeling back in his cold legs. 'It's fricken cold out here. I'm going in.'

The tractor-beam pull of Cas' eyes almost didn't let him go, but then the angel nodded once at him and returned to his task of sitting Winchester vigil.

'Mind my paintwork,' Dean muttered as he walked by him and ran away back to his room.

 

In the days that followed, Dean almost had himself convinced the early morning talk on the trunk of his car might've just been some whacky dream. He hadn't brought any of the subjects up again with Cas since, and Cas hadn't seemed inclined to revisit any of them either. Business as usual, with added Apocalypse.

But then Sam had to go and goddamn "click" with a stunner named Brigit who worked an evening shift in a bar in Little Rock to put herself through Pharmacy at UAMS. One "Don't wait up, bro!" later and Dean found himself heading back to the motel room alone with a six pack and nothing but reruns. He lasted about half an hour before hitting his speed dial and rustling up some feathery company.

'Didn't drag you away from anything urgent, did I?'

Castiel trailed a finger across the cover of one of the ancient books Sam had left out on the table. 'Nothing that couldn't wait.' He stood a little straighter, firmly shifting his attention from the dusty texts to Dean. 'How can I assist you?'

'It's not assistance I need.' Dean immediately cursed himself silently for bringing the word "need" into the conversation. 'Just wanted some company.' Silently cursed himself some more for bringing "want" into it as well.

Cas tilted his head a little and gave him a long look. 'And how shall I entertain you, Dean?'

If there'd been ANY acknowledgment of the trunk conversation in the days since – any recognition at all – Dean would definitely have taken that question as Cas flirting with him. Did Cas even know _how_ to flirt? Or even what flirting was?

'Uh, actually… I was kinda wondering if you could show me your wings.' He hadn't realised he'd been wondering that until the words actually spilled out of his mouth. Huh.

'I wish you no harm, Dean. I can't show you them beyond what I already have.'

'No, see, I was thinking we could do it like blind people.' Wow, that sounded way weirder and skeevier than he'd intended. 'I mean, I saw this movie once, this chick flick about a blind girl who falls in love with a dude who isn't blind. Whatever. Anyway, she asked to see what he looked like by, er, feeling him with her hands.'

Castiel's eyes widened and Dean really, really didn't blame him.

'You want to touch my wings?' Cas asked slowly.

Dean cursed himself for an idiot, but he'd put it out there now. Now he had to deal with the fallout. 'Well. Yeah.'

Cas seemed to wait a few beats, then he gave Dean a nod so barely there that Dean would've completely missed it if he hadn't been hanging on the angel's response. 'Can this room be completely blacked out?'

 

It was so pitch black that Dean literally couldn't see his hand in front of his face. There wasn't even any residual light from outside leaking into the room anywhere, no streetlight glow, no flickering motel neon, not even a strip of weak light dribbling under the bottom of the door. Cas had even gone to the trouble of unplugging the LED clock radio, so paranoid was he of the possibility of burning Dean's eyes out of his head. Maybe Dean was starting to understand just how bad the angel must've felt about what he inadvertently did to Pamela Barnes.

There was a rustling sound; at first, just the usual soft settling of feathers that Dean was well accustomed to hearing whenever Castiel landed in his presence, but then it intensified – not necessarily louder, just _more_. He heard Cas sigh softly, the sort of sound one makes after a good stretch in the mornings, and Dean imagined him rolling his shoulders lazily and tilting his head to each side to get rid of a crick.

'Must feel good to get 'em out, huh?' Dean winced a little, feeling like his voice was too loud for the blackness of the room.

'Stretching is nice, yes.'

Dean's fingers itched to touch. His hands felt heavy with want as he lifted them a little way. He and Cas hadn't moved since the lights went out, but being rendered sightless combined with a sharp spike in his anticipation levels had caused Dean some disorientation. He took a hesitant step forward and his right hand touched bare skin. 'Uh, I'm, er.' He pulled his hand back apologetically. 'Help me out here? I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, Cas.'

'That was my arm,' Castiel informed him. 'Here.' And his hands gently caught Dean's, helping to guide them to Castiel's shoulders.

'Um. Can you see in the dark?' Dean suddenly thought to ask. He'd feel a bit stupid if Cas was able to see his fumbling and his wonder as clear as day when Dean couldn't see a damned thing.

'My night vision is better than a human's,' came the reply. 'But not terribly much so. I see your shape, but not your features.'

Well, thank fuck for that, at least. Dean let his fingers curl over the curves of Cas' shoulders, his sense of touch intensified in the absence of his visual sense. 'And when did you get naked?'

'I'm not naked.'

'Well, when did you get topless, then? I didn't hear you take anything off.'

Beneath his hands, Castiel's shoulders lifted a little way and fell again, a small shrug, dismissing Dean's concern for such a trivial matter. The movement, though negligible, caused the feathered pinions Dean still couldn't see to rustle, drawing his attention back to what this whole exercise was in aid of – getting to experience Cas' wings.

Slowly, Dean smoothed his right hand over Cas' shoulder and onto his back. Feathers. Fuckin'… he could actually feel them, they were real. He moved his left hand the same way and felt feathers on the other side, too. 'Wow,' he murmured, humbled and a little awestruck at the reality of it all. 'They're, uh, pretty fucking awesome, Cas.'

Each quill was so firm beneath his fingers, strong and powerful, like the wing feathers of an eagle. The body of each feather so silken to the touch, beautifully tapered, the barbs whispering at the movement of Dean's fingers against them. He followed the upward jut of wingbone a little way, realising that Cas had the wings folded at his back somehow. 'Just how big are they?' he found himself asking. 'I mean, what kind of wingspan are we talking about here?'

'Quite large,' Cas said quietly. 'I doubt this room could contain it.'

Dean's eyes widened instinctively. 'Could you stretch out just one, then? Just to give me some idea?' He pulled his hands back to himself as he felt Castiel's silent acquiescence, Cas' left wing moving outward, the shushing sound of feathery movement reaching out into the black cavern of the room.

There was a dull crashing sound as something from Dean's bedside table – the unplugged clock radio, probably – was knocked to the carpeted floor.

'Sorry,' Cas muttered. Dean couldn't care less.

Carefully, using one finger to trail along the wing as a guide in the darkness, Dean walked to the end of Cas' wingtip. It was almost touching the opposite wall. Cas was right, the room, spacious though it might be compared to some of the dives the Winchesters had lived in, wouldn't have been able to contain the angel at full wingspan. Dean let out a long, low whistle. This was all kinds of awesome and amazing. He turned to face Cas' direction and, again using the wing to guide himself, re-crossed to where Castiel stood. Behind him as he walked, the wing furled back on itself, until Dean was standing back where he started and the wing was tucked back next to its twin behind Cas.

'Wow.' Dean knew he was repeating himself, but what more succinct and appropriate word was there? 'They're beautiful,' he whispered.

'They're not the most exciting of colours…'

'Cas. They're AMAZING. I don't give a shit what colour they are!' He put his hands back to Cas' shoulders, smoothing his way back to the wingbones again on instinct. It was kinda surreal, the way they emerged so seamlessly, so organically out of Jimmy's back, such a perfect continuation of Jimmy's shoulder blades. As though the physical man and the angel inside him were indeed becoming One.

Feeling more bold this time, Dean rubbed his thumbs along the downy bone with a firmer stroke. Over and over, always following the direction of the quills, not against it. He was aware of Cas leaning his head a little closer to Dean's, rather like the way someone getting a good backrub lets their head loll forward in relaxation.

'That okay?' Dean whispered. He didn't know why he was whispering. There really wasn't any need to. But, somehow, the moment had become more intimate and whispering just seemed the way to go.

'Mm,' Cas replied. 'The pressure is particularly pleasant.' Obviously whispering seemed like the way to go for Castiel, too.

'D'you wanna…' Dean cleared his throat. 'Wanna lie down?' He could've swore he actually felt Cas nodding his approval to the idea; their heads must have been _really_ close together. Then Cas reached up to pull Dean's right hand away from his wing and, circling Dean's wrist loosely in Jimmy's long fingers, he led Dean across to the nearest bed.

Dean heard the bed squeak, mattress springs moving as Cas lay down. Dean patted his hands lightly here and there in order to work out exactly what the logistics were here, then he knelt onto the edge of the mattress and moved up onto the bed himself. Cas was laying on his front and his feet were bare, Dean quickly realised, the tips of the mighty wings reaching down to them when folded.

'You wanna move your feathery bits up a little so I don't crush anything?'

Obediently, the wings moved, lifting and spreading just a tiny way, baring the back of Castiel's body. Dean imagined the pinions above him, raptor-strong and righteously sure, the tips of the remiges fluttering almost imperceptibly as Dean moved. He straddled Cas' behind, kinda happy, for now at least, that Cas' suitpants were still in place, and that he was still fully clothed himself. What they were doing was pretty intimate, sure, but Dean wasn't certain just _how_ intimate either he or his angel were prepared to get right now. The extra barriers of their clothes helped to keep the situation just this side of Not As Weird As It Could Be. He leaned forward slightly and put his hands back on Cas' wingbones, immediately resuming the firm thumb caresses of before.

'No one's ever done this,' Castiel whispered beneath him.

'Yeah? Dude, from what you told me a few months back, there's a whole lotta stuff no one's ever done to you.' Dean grinned into the darkness, letting his touch get a little harder as he felt the answer of shifting muscle beneath his hands. Feeling pretty confident now, Dean trailed his fingertips down the smooth skin between Jimmy's shoulder blades, allowed his touch to explore where wing sprung forth from flesh.

Cas groaned quietly, body flexing up against Dean's in one beautifully languid undulation. 'Dean…'

'Good, huh?' Dean concentrated on those spots, running his fingers around the base of each wingbone, rubbing his thumbs firmly up and down the space between.

This was getting – well. It was getting a little heated, is what it was getting. Dean suddenly realised that he was actually _turning Cas on_ , that he was stroking and caressing at Cas' body in a way that was very obviously being received with pleasure. Hot on the heels of that little realisation came the further one, that Dean wasn't uncomfortable about doing it. On the contrary, in fact, Dean was finding he liked it, liked making Cas feel good, liked feeling Cas' body come alive underneath him, liked hearing the angel's breathing speed up fraction by fraction.

Dean leaned down low, shoulders barely fitting in the space between poised wings, put his mouth close to Cas' ear and whispered a little hotly, 'You like that? Like me doing that?'

Movement beneath and around him, and Cas' wings pressed against him a little tighter. 'Yes.' Not whispered, not murmured. Cas spoke the word at normal volume, which sounded loud in that moment, his voice low and sexy at its gravelly best.

'Shit, Cas – ' Some switch in Dean's brain flipped and his body started diverting blood to places it hadn't been ten minutes ago.

He pulled back to sit over Cas' ass again, staring blindly down at where he knew his hands were between the wings. Dean was a sensual man and sex had always been instinctual for him; even on his very first attempt, he'd been able to impress an older woman and leave her more than satisfied. He'd already accepted the fact he wasn't uncomfortable about doing this – all he had to do now was let his instincts guide him, trust his impulses.

The noise Castiel made when Dean put his mouth on him was very nearly pornographic.

Dean kissed his way up onto the start of one wingbone, mouthing and nipping at the heated skin. When he felt skin give way to quill, he tentatively played his tongue-tip around the stiff shaft, delicately licking and tickling. Mapping the journey back, he gave open-mouthed kisses between the wings again before travelling up the other wingbone and finding more quills to run his tongue along. That seemed to be working pretty well for Cas, and Dean had to admit it, the sheer exoticness, the alien otherworldliness of what he was doing was kinda doin' it for him, too.

When Cas flung one arm back to touch Dean, just to connect to him, presumably, just to feel at his body there behind him, Dean listened to another impulse. He sat up briefly, just long enough to haul his tshirt off and get rid of it, then he was back to finding out how many ways he could make Cas groan his name, how many things he could do to a feather with his mouth.

Yeah, maybe he'd just taken a step further away from Not As Weird As It Could Be. Maybe even a couple of steps.

Pressing his lips and his cheek against Cas' skin felt so good. Nosing into the soft, silk folds of feather and down felt amazing. Letting his hardened nipples graze against the small of Cas' back was electric. Soon enough, he realised that Cas was moving his hips against the mattress in a stuttering rhythm and the knowledge of what that meant sent tiny shocks of sensation, of heat and want and madness, zinging through Dean's bloodstream.

He was getting Cas off. He, Dean Winchester, ladies' man extraordinaire, was taking an angel – a male angel at that – to the dizzying heights of earthly pleasure. And he hadn't even got his cock out yet.

Dean stretched out over Castiel's back again, embraced once more by now-trembling wings, and pressed the sides of their faces together. Further down, his rock-hard dick lined up with the crease of Cas' ass and even with the layers of clothing separating them, if felt fucking fantastic to rock his hips there. He braced his arms around Cas, taking his weight on his elbows, Castiel's shoulders in his hands once again, and somehow got a rhythm going between them.

'You ever come before, Cas?' Their mouths were so close, Dean could feel Cas lick his lips before responding.

'Never.'

'Fuck.'

Another impulse, a sharper, dirtier, more insistent instinct, and Dean suddenly rolled away, heaved himself onto his back on the bed and pulled at Castiel's nearest arm.

'C'mon,' he coaxed. 'Get on top of me.'

Castiel was half up already, hovering over Dean uncertainly. 'What do I do?'

'Whatever feels good,' Dean blurted, yanking an armful of angel down onto himself. 'Line your dick up against mine and get moving.'

Their bare chests pressing together was almost enough to do the trick on its own. Something pointy in between them dug in over Dean's tattoo and he surged up into the pain. It was his amulet, little brass horns jabbing into him. He hadn't even realised Cas was wearing the damned thing. He wound one leg around Castiel's waist, anchoring himself under another man's body for the first time in his life, curled his fingers around the twin arches of wingbone, and let Cas fake-fuck his brains out.

Sometime between then and both of them coming in their pants, Dean and Castiel shared their first one or twenty kisses.

 

'Can you let Jimmy know I'm sorry?'

'For what?'

Dean shifted a bit, groping for a pillow and getting it under his head. He and Cas were laying side by side on the bed, Dean's breath heavy, Cas' already as normal as it ever was (which was to say, freakishly hardly noticeable). He didn't know what Cas had done to magically clean them both up, but the afterglow was still chillin' enough that Dean didn't really care either.

'Sorry for… you know. Letting that happen. I shouldn't've let things go that far. I'm sorry.'

'I don't follow, Dean.'

Dean sighed into the darkness, trying to come up with words adequate to explaining himself, explaining the shame that was starting to settle into his bones. 'Look, it's just that, I kinda assumed the poor guy wasn't in there with you anymore, you know? After you got smote and all, I kinda figured Jimmy would've gone on to his rewards or whatever. But after the hamburgers the other week…'

'You realise that he was indeed resurrected with me. And this concerns you.'

'Well, of course it concerns me! That's Jimmy's body you've got on, Cas!' He reined in his volume slightly before continuing. 'That's Jimmy's body I was touching just now. And Jimmy was inside it the whole time I was touching, too. Does he know? Was he aware, I mean?'

'He does. He was.'

'Oh, that's just awesome. Now I feel like a rapist.'

'You're not, Dean.'

'Not even a little bit? C'mon, man, I don't have Jimmy's consent for any of this!'

'Perhaps not. But I do.'

'What?'

'Jimmy has given his physical form over to me for whatever purposes I see fit.'

'And that includes fucking around? Fucking around with another dude? Jimmy was married, Cas! He's straight and normal and he loves his wife.'

'True. But he has also given himself completely and realises he may never go back to his old life. In dealing with this decision he's made, he still craves to be loved and comforted. You can give him that, Dean.'

'Hmph. Yeah, but I'd be delivering it with my dick.'

Cas chuckled – honest to god _chuckled_ – at that. 'He does find you very amusing, Dean.'

'Dude. This isn't really funny.'

Dean could feel Cas moving next to him and the bed dipping, then a soft light was suddenly bathing them. The lamp bolted to the wall beside the bed, which Dean had forgotten was even there but which Cas obviously hadn't, wasn't the strongest light-source in the world, by any stretch. But Dean's eyes still stung after so long in pitch blackness and he screwed them shut on impulse.

'You are very beautiful, Dean.'

'Shuddup.'

'Even to a man like Jimmy, who has never given much consideration to masculine beauty, you are very pleasing to the eye.' Castiel's voice dropped to a near whisper. 'Most pleasing to look upon. And to touch.'

Behind his still screwed-shut eyes, Dean let embarrassment flood in to mix with the shame he was already paddling in. 'Don't say shit like that,' he grit out.

He heard Cas sigh, and warily opened his eyes to find the angel propped on one elbow, gazing down at him with a faint expression of bemusement. The wings had been tucked back away into whatever other dimension they were usually stored in.

'I would very much like,' Castiel told him evenly, 'to kiss you again.' He tilted his head in contemplation. 'If that is permissible.'

Dean felt his dick twitch and closed his eyes again. He wanted it to be "permissible". Fuck, he wanted it. He just couldn't say it. Couldn't even bring himself to nod his assent.

'Dean?'

'Fuck. Just. Just do it!' he growled, frown heavy between his still closed eyes.

He felt when Cas moved toward him, sensed the air displace as the angel leaned over him. Then – pressure and heat and wetness, practised now because Cas was a quick learner and their faces fit together well. Dean just lay there for a while, letting Castiel ravage his mouth, letting Cas kiss and nip and tongue-fuck him, humming sounds into him and licking them back out again. When he felt fingers on his chin, rubbing over his stubble and angling his head just how Cas wanted him, Dean let his eyes slide open again.

Blue.

So much blue. Even in the dull light given off by that one sorry-ass lamp, Castiel's eyes were bluer than big Texas sky, bluer than Jimmy Novak's eyes had been.

'You're kissing me with your eyes open?'

'Yours are open now, too, Dean.'

Hmph. 'What about before? In the dark, I mean. Did you close them then?'

Cas considered that for a moment. 'Occasionally. Am I supposed to?'

Dean couldn't help a tiny smile. 'People usually do, yeah.'

'I'll try to remember.'

'So er.' Dean swallowed. 'You like all this?'

'It's quite overwhelming. So much to observe in one instance. This body seems to have responses of its own. And Jimmy appreciates the sensations. And I…' Cas paused, looking down into Dean's eyes as if he should be able to read the words he was searching for there. 'I like it. Yes. And I would like…'

'Yeah?' Dean prompted. Castiel shifted his body marginally closer, just close enough that Dean could feel hardness being pressed against his thigh through his jeans.

'I would like more,' Cas finished.

Dean at least managed to nod a proper "Yes" this time.

 

Dean'd had a guy suck him off before. Dean was nineteen and he was hot as fuck and a middle-aged guy with a wedding ring and a grey suit offered him a fifty if Dean would just let the dude blow him. Easy money. He told John he won it playing darts. He'd bought himself the new Metallica album and his first ever copy of _Busty Asian Beauties_ and left a small stack of secondhand novels sitting on Sammy's bed for him to find when he got home from school. He'd never told anyone about the experience, but he'd found his thoughts wandering to that guy from time to time over the years, wondered if he was still married, if he was still paying hot guys to let him blow them in men's rooms.

He glanced down the length of his body and wondered if he should tell Cas about it. Let him know, before he got there – now that they were both fully naked and getting down to some serious business – that he wouldn't be the first dude to ever do that to Dean. Was it best to tell, or not to tell?

'I know of the experience in your twentieth year, Dean.'

'Sonofabitch. Would you mind leaving my mind unraped, thanks?'

Castiel levelled a disapproving look at him. 'Would you mind not _thinking_ at me so very loudly, then?'

Dean found himself laughing softly at that. 'Okay. Deal. You could stop me thinking about much at all fairly easily right now, y'know.' He lifted his hips a short way, letting his cock sway a bit to get his point across.

'I'm not entirely sure about that assertion.' Cas stared intently at Dean's erection. 'Easily for whom, exactly?'

It was a fair enough question, Dean figured. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave Cas a soft smile. 'Sorry, man, I shouldn't be so flippant about it. It isn't like I've ever given this a try myself or anything. I have had it done for me a lot though, so I can definitely tell you what things work.'

Castiel closed his right hand around Dean's shaft and leaned his face closer. Dean shuddered underneath him, just from the feel of an angel touching his dick. 'I suck it,' Cas said carefully, as though trying to ascertain that that was, indeed, the whole point of the exercise.

'Well, yeah. But the best blowjobs, the really great ones that blow yer mind as well, they tend to involve a whole lot more than just that.'

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. 'Such as?'

Dean coughed lightly. 'Um. Licking. And using your hand as well. Pulling at the skin with your lips, rubbing it in your face, giving it horny fucking kisses…' He stopped to lick his lips and steady his voice. 'Most of all though, the absolute best thing you can do, is to lemme see you enjoying it, I wanna hear the sucking noises you make and hear you humming around it, I wanna feel your drool running down onto my balls 'cos your mouth's watering for it so bad – '

'Dean.'

'What?'

The look Cas was giving him was one-part scandalised to two-parts panic. 'Uh,' he said over Dean's cock. 'Jimmy – '

Oh shit. 'Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to – I mean – sorry. Was getting a bit carried away. Too hot n heavy – '

'No, Dean, you misunderstand. Jimmy is… he's aroused.'

Oh. _Oh._

'Right. Er. Is he okay with that?' Dean desperately hoped this didn't mean they had to stop now, that Jimmy wasn't gonna have some massive freakout over getting hard for a guy, for _Dean_.

'He certainly appears to be,' Cas told him, then tilted his head as though listening to instructions. 'Oh.'

'Cas? He talking to you? What's he saying?'

Castiel glanced away almost shyly. 'I don't know if I can say – yes.' He looked back up to meet Dean's eyes and Dean realised the last thing he'd said had probably been directed at Jimmy rather than him.

'Jimmy would like…'

'Yes?'

'He would like to fuck you.'

Hearing that word tumble from Castiel's mouth made Dean's breath catch in his throat. It was the first time since he was a very young kid that that word had sounded so dirty, so visceral, so goddamn powerful.

Dean considered the reality of the suggestion for a moment. Two guys (and nevermind, for the minute, that one of them was a holy entity from another realm and wasn't even human) were going to put their shared cock into Dean's ass and fuck him together. That would have to be, hands down, the kinkiest fricken threesome Dean had ever had. And he'd fucked twins.

After considering that reality for a moment, Dean spent another moment considering the fact that he'd just considered that reality as a definite happening. Huh. He was gonna do this. Fuckyes. He was gonna do this!

Dean smirked up at Cas and gave him a sly wink. 'Well alright!'

He hadn't bought lube in ages – hadn't been getting laid enough to bother, what with the Apocalypse and everything – but he knew which pocket of Sam's backpack Sammy kept his supplies in. There were condoms in there, too, but Dean felt a little reckless and left 'em there. Out of the two of them with physical bodies, Dean was more likely than Jimmy to have anything nasty – and he knew he was clean. And even if by some chance Dean wasn't, Cas could still heal his vessel of shit that befell it. And frankly, they could all be dead next week anyway. So fuck the rubbers. If Dean was gonna do this, and be on the receiving end of it at that, then he was gonna have the complete, dirty, messy experience. It was the End Of Days, after all. Bang a gong, get it on. Carpe diem, baby.

'How d'you wanna do this?' Dean asked when he climbed back on the bed and passed the tube of slick to Cas.

'What do you mean?' Blue eyes flickered from Dean to the lube and back to Dean again.

'How do you want me?' Dean grinned.

'Dean.' Castiel fidgeted with the plastic tube before giving Dean a beseeching look. 'I have _no idea_.' The poor guy looked so lost right then, so virginal, that Dean took pity on him. Decided to just get down to business.

Lying down on his side with his back to Cas, Dean drew his topmost leg up a ways and looked back at Cas over his shoulder. 'It's supposed to be easiest like this. C'mon. Curl up behind me and quit worrying about things. We'll work it out, Cas. It'll be fine, I promise. Me and Jimmy'll show you what to do.'

It was all kinds of awkward for a while. The logistics of fingers and holes and colder-than-expected lubricant. But Dean was determined to give Cas this, determined to give something of himself to the guy who'd dragged him outta Hell – and not because he felt beholden or obligated or any of that shit, but because, simply, he wanted to.

'Dean.'

'Yeah, Cas?'

'This organ. Are you certain it will fit this aperture?'

Dean flexed languidly against the fingers inside his body and wondered a little worriedly about that himself. 'Sure it will,' he said firmly and pulled his leg up even higher. 'Ready to give it a go?'

'If you are. Yes.'

The first touch made Dean think, briefly, that Cas was right about organs not fitting whatevers. The head of that thing felt fricken enormous against him. Castiel took hold of Dean's hip as he pressed carefully forward.

'I don't wish to hurt you.' Whispered right up against his ear, lips sliding on his skin.

'Four decades in the Pit, dude, you can't hurt me. Keep going.' Dean put a hand over the one Cas had on his hip and let their fingers slide together. 'I trust you, Cas. C'mon.'

Feeling his body open up to Castiel's careful ministrations was… confronting. It made Dean think of all the women he'd been with over the years; not individually, of course, but as a collective. Was this what it was like to be with _him_? With any man? These inches of hot determination working their way into you, sliding against your walls, seeking out the core of you, making you so acutely aware of this space in your body, this space you walk around all day every day pretty much completely unaware of until this? Until it's filled?

Castiel's hand gripped his hip even tighter and Dean swallowed hard, realising he could feel the intimate scratch of hair against his ass, realising what that meant, how far inside him Cas had gone.

'Dean…' God, Cas sounded wrecked. Shaky.

'Yeah, Cas, it's good. Just gimme a moment, okay? Let me – ' He'd been about to say "adjust", but for some reason that word stuck in his throat and he mentally groped for another. 'Lemme get used to you.'

Castiel stilled immediately, the long heat of him thick and real and _there_. He stroked Dean's flank and began whispering to him while Dean breathed shallow and told himself to get a grip.

'I saw the Beginning, Dean. I watched the Hand touch an insignificant star named Sol and it burned incandescent, its light and warmth spilling onto this expectant, fecund planet.' In between words, the angel peppered kisses across Dean's neck and shoulders and upper arms, anywhere he could reach. When his lips slid across the raised handprint on Dean's shoulder, Dean couldn't help but groan, the sound starting deep, deep down in his chest.

'And I walked your new Earth, Dean.' Achingly slowly, Cas began to slide his cock back and forth within Dean's body, each movement lengthening over the last, each one a little faster than the previous until movements became actual thrusts.

'I dug fingertip into your fertile new soils, trailed wingtip through your tall, fresh grasses. I was kissed by your first breeze and caressed by your first rains. And I see it, Dean, I see all of it, in you.'

Dean elongated his throat, arching his neck back to press his face somewhere in the vicinity of Castiel's. 'What? What do you see in me?'

'Life. The spark. The Horseman lied to you, Dean.' Cas let his hand curl around Dean's hips, let Jimmy's long fingers take hold of Dean's leaking prick and begin working it. 'I am the only being in all Creation who has cradled your soul in my hands. I know you. I know you are complete. Because I know you completely.'

Dean heard a moan, realising only on delay that it was coming from him. He was moaning as Cas fucked him, moaning on another man's cock. Who knew? Who knew it could feel this good? Being laid claim to like this, being owned, being taken? So full and open and stretched and filled?

They were rocking together pretty hard now, their bodies tensely fused to one another. There were no big theatrical thrusts like in porn movies, but tightly locked synergy – Cas into Dean, Dean onto Cas, one continuous wave of intense, primitive pleasure being pushed back and forth in the nil space between them.

'I – ' Cas' voice cracked and he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, his hand pulling harder on Dean's cock. 'I didn't… had no idea, Dean. Dean. Oh…'

'OhmyfuckingGOD!' Sam's voice suddenly boomed over them.

'HOLYSHIT!' Dean cried, hands flying to his groin in some vain and stupid attempt to cover up.

'Ugh!' Cas uttered at the same moment, pumping Dean full of Jimmy Novak's pent-up frustrations.

Dean couldn't help it. He really fucking couldn't. He clamped his hands down over his crotch, trapping Cas' hand there, too, and came harder than he'd done in years, his body beyond his own control right in that instant.

'I'll give you guys another hour!' Sam blurted in practically one, long, run-on sentence and slammed the door behind himself as he ran away again.

'Ohfuck!' Dean panted. 'Fuckfuckfuckfuck – '

'Yes,' was all Cas could seem to say about it, lazily and completely fucked-out-edly at that.

 

'I told you not to wait up, Dean!'

'Did that look like "waiting up" to you?! I thought you'd be gone all night, for christssake!'

Sam flipped his hair agitatedly. 'She's got lectures or something in the morning, some pharmaceutical practical, I don't know. Couldn't you have put a sock on the door handle or something?'

'Why the fuck would I – Is that some bizarre frat house thing?'

'I was never in a _frat_ house, Dean! Not all college life is like Animal House!'

'Not wishing to interrupt your family discussion,' Castiel said calmly from the corner of the room where he was leaning with his hands lost in the trenchcoat pockets. 'But other patrons of this hotelier may be trying to sleep.'

As one, both Winchester brothers turned toward him with their mouths slightly open. Dean looked at his angel standing there, hair mussed maybe a little more than usual, but otherwise not showing any outward sign of now being virginity-bereft, and he couldn't help a slow smile.

'Yeah, Sam,' Dean started, giving his brother a friendly whack on his gigantic shoulder. 'It's not like you've never walked in on me having sex before. Right?'

Sam seemed to be steadying himself with a few short breaths, then gave one short, sharp nod. 'Never quite like that, Dean. But… whatever.' All at once, his bluster seemed to deflate and he actually managed a little grin in Dean's direction. 'Sorry for interrupting, dude. Timing, huh?'

'I'll say.' Dean picked at a thread on the worn knee of his jeans and tried to keep his smiles under control. For some reason, he just seemed to have a whole bunch of them right now, and they all wanted to be beaming all over the room, all at the same time. Fucking ridiculous state of affairs, really.

Sam cleared his throat softly and Dean looked up in time to see him square his shoulders, as though steeling himself for something.

'Sorry, Cas,' Sammy said evenly. 'Sorry I interrupted… y'know. Before.'

'I'm sorry if we alarmed you,' Castiel told him in response.

'No, no of course not,' Sam was quick to reply. 'I'm cool with – whatever it is. I just don't want to ever walk in on it again, if that's okay with you guys. Unless Dean forks over the dough for all the eye-bleach I'd need.'

'Hey!'

Sam laughed quietly at Dean's requisite indignant exclamation. In just the space of time it took for Sam to calm his laughter and knock his hand chummily against Castiel's closest arm, Dean could feel a whole lotta tension bleed out of the room.

'I'm serious, Cas,' Sam said. 'I'm cool with it. I was just a bit surprised in the moment, that's all. I actually think it's pretty great that you and Dean can, I dunno, connect with each other like that. If you want.'

Castiel let his shoulders rise and fall in one small but elegant shrug. 'You pull a guy outta Hell,' he told Sam, though his intense gaze was locked back on Dean, 'you can't help feeling a bit connected.'

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Janekrahe in deancastiel.livejournal.com's "Secret Angels III Fic Exchange", held in March 2010. For the prompt "Dean asks to see Cas' wings", though tried to include some "Sammy being cute and awesome" as well. Title from Metallica's "Carpe Diem, Baby", which was on the album 19y.o. Dean bought back in 1997 with his easy money.


End file.
